


Clockwork Engines

by watanuki_sama



Series: Shards Of Quantum Glass [2]
Category: Common Law (TV)
Genre: Background Wesvis, F/F, Femslash, Steampunk AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/pseuds/watanuki_sama
Summary: In which there is a mid-air kidnapping, a clockwork man needs repairing, and Ms. Amy Laroche meets the engineer of her dreams.





	Clockwork Engines

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on FF.net under the penname 'EFAW' on 02.15.18.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: THIS SERIES IS NOT A NEW SUPERHERO SERIES. I'M SORRY. SEE SERIES DESCRIPTION FOR MORE INFO.
> 
>  
> 
> All I really know of steampunk are dirigibles, clockwork, and Victorian mores. So that’s what I bring you.
> 
>  
> 
> PROMPT: Steampunk

_“Every lady needs a little adventure in her life.”_   
_—Anonymous_

\---

The worst part about high-class flights, Amy decides, is that they’re full of high-class people, and high-class people are inevitably so _boring_. They only want to talk about money, or fashion, or business, or gossip, none of which interests her in the slightest.

She sighs, staring out the window. If only flights aren’t so _slow_. Dirigible flights are still faster than the trains, but she has two more days of this company to look forward to, and frankly, it’s a dreadful prospect.

“You look,” a male voice says behind her, “about as bored as I feel.”

Amy turns, smiling politely at the young man. “Then you must be quite bored indeed.”

“Indeed.” His lips quirk up, and he holds out his hand. “Wes Mitchell, Mitchell Ironworks.”

That’s another thing she hates about the high-class. Everyone has to connect their names with something or someone. Still, she keeps her polite smile on and slides her hand into his. “Amy Laroche, Laroche Engines.”

One of his eyebrows goes up. “I think my father does business with yours.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Amy turns back to the window. “I don’t really keep up with the business side of things.”

She hopes he’ll take the hint and leave her alone.

Instead, he asks, “Would you like to get a drink?”

She almost says no, just snaps it out instantly. But then she pauses. Her other option is to stay here, all by herself, staring at the clouds.

At least if she goes with him he’ll buy her a drink.

She turns back to him. “Why not?”

\---

The tiny brass bird flutters around the dining room, chirping melodiously, and Amy laughs with delight.

“You _made_ that?”

Wes whistles a jaunty tune and the bird comes flying back to perch on his hand. “It’s nothing special,” he says dismissively with a little shrug.

“It’s _amazing_. Are you going into clockwork, then?”

The blonde ducks his head. “No, I…it’s beneath me, my father says. I should be focusing on the business, not playing with gears and pulleys. But I like to work with my hands.”

“Me too,” Amy confides, drawing his gaze to her. “Not clockwork, but I like engines. Do you know, I helped design the Laroche 1720?” She nods. “The newest engine in the lot, and it was made by a woman.”

His eyebrows go up. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.” She leans back, sighing. “That’s why I’m here. I want to talk my father into letting me go to school, to become an engineer.” Another sigh. “Unfortunately, I already know what he’ll say. ‘It’s not a woman’s work.’ He expects me to either take over the business or marry someone who will. Preferably the latter.”

“Parents.” Wes smiles bitterly. “Your greatest enemies.”

“What about you?” Amy asks. “Why are you taking this flight?”

“I am going to meet my fiancé,” Wes says archly.

“You don’t sound so enthused.”

He shrugs, stroking the metal bird in his hands. “I was an arranged match between our parents, to help our companies prosper. I’ve never even met her.” The bitter smile comes back. “Parents.”

“Parents.” Amy raises her glass and takes a sip.

He stares down at the brass bird for a moment, then abruptly pushes it towards her. “Here. You can have this. For luck.”

She wants it. She loves engines, but there’s something beautifully enchanting about the little clockwork bird, and she _wants_ it. She forces her hand to stop halfway across the table. “I couldn’t. You made this.”

“And I’ll make another one.” He nudges it towards her. “Perhaps your venture will go better than mine.”

“I…thank you.” Slowly, her hand closes around delicate metal. She smiles down at the tiny automaton. “Thank you.”

He opens his mouth.

There’s a crash, and the entire dirigible lurches. They both shoot to their feet as screams and shouts erupt.

Amy shoves the bird in her pocket and follows Wes into the hall. He grabs one of the crewmen. “What’s happening?”

The crewman stares at them with terrified eyes. “Pirates.”

\---

They all gather in the dining hall.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” the main pirate says, a dark-skinned man with a sword in his hand. “We’re not here to hurt any of you. Just empty your pockets and purses into our bags and we’ll be on our way.”

Amy has read about pirates, seen pictures on the rare occasion the police captures one. They’re always rough and dirty and ill-tempered. These pirates and clean and polite and the main one is quite charming. It almost feels like she’s being taken hostage by a gang of schoolboys.

Pirates slowly start moving through the room, including the leader. The passengers are clearly frightened, but they do as asked, emptying their things into the pirates’ bags. Upon reaching Wes and Amy, the main pirate holds out his bag. “Into the bag, now, nice and easy.”

Jaw clenched, Wes empties his pockets. The pirate turns to Amy. “You too, miss.”

Her hands tremble a little as she drops her purse in. (Not, she thinks, from fear. No, she’s not scared at all. This is rather exciting. Which is not the appropriate response at _all_ , even she knows that.) At a gesture, she removes her earrings and necklace as well. Then she reaches into her pockets and takes out the tiny brass bird.

The pirate’s eyes widen, and he grabs her arm. “You’re a clockworker?” he demands, and there’s something in his voice, excitement or surprise.

“No, I—”

“It’s me,” Wes says, stepping forward, easing his body between Amy and the pirate. It’s ridiculously chivalrous and kind of sweet, really. The pirate abruptly releases her, turning to Wes. “It’s me,” Wes says again, “I made the bird.”

The pirate smiles, and it’s charming and smooth and the sort of expression that won’t allow any arguments. “Then it’s your lucky day. You get to come with me.” He makes a motion with his sword.

“I’m going too,” Amy blurts before she can quite think this through.

Both men glance sharply at her. “I don’t need you,” the pirate says reasonably. “You’re not a clockworker. I need him.”

“He’s my fiancé,” Amy lies. “Why else would he give me such an expensive bird?” She straightens, glaring sharply at Wes when he opens his mouth. “I’m not letting you take him without me.”

The pirate merely shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He whistles sharply, and the other pirates gather at the front of the room. The lead pirate gestures Wes and Amy to precede him. “Let’s be on our way, then.”

\---

“You do realize,” Wes whispers as they’re escorted to the pirate ship, “that was the stupidest thing anyone’s ever done. When they realize you’re lying, they’ll shoot you.”

“They won’t shoot me,” Amy whispers cheerfully back. “Dirigibles are full of hydrogen, a single spark will set the whole thing alight.”

“Oh, good, then they’ll simply toss you overboard.” Wes scowls at her. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to be alone on a pirate ship.” She grins, tucking her arm into his. “Come now, Wes Mitchell. Think of it as an adventure!”

He just scowls.

\---

“I need you to fix him,” the pirate says.

Wes’s eyes widen at the golden automaton on the table. Without seeming to realize it, he steps away from Amy, circling the still form, chivalry abandoned with an object of his passion before him. “This is quite well-made. Chinese?”

“Korean,” the pirate says, moving to the other side of the table. “His name’s David. Last skirmish we were in, he caught a few bullets, messed up his insides pretty good. Normally David can patch himself up, but this took him out, and none of us know clockwork, so… ”

“So you needed a clockworker.” Wes nods thoughtfully, stripping off his jacket. Amy can see the light in his eyes, the challenge before him outweighing the kidnapping. “I’ll need tools.”

“Right here.” The pirate swings open a drawer, and Amy can almost see Wes’s eyes light up.

He rolls up his sleeves. “Okay. Let’s see what I can do.”

\---

After three hours of watching Wes with his arms in the automaton’s chest, Amy rises. The pirate stiffens. “Where are you going?”

“The lavatory.” Amy glares at him. “Or is that not allowed?”

The pirate opens his mouth, then sighs. “Down the hall, last room on the right.”

She nods stiffly. “Thank you.”

She does her business, thinking that this adventure is much duller than she anticipated. She hadn’t thought there’d be quite so much sitting around. 

When she emerges, there’s no one in the hall. She could return to the clockwork room, but that would be _boring_ and she doesn’t really expect it to change. If she wanted boredom she would have stayed on the airship. Instead, she decides to do some exploring. The worst they could do is bring her back to where Wes is.

(Well, no, the worst they could do is kill her, rape her, throw her off the ship. But Amy doubts that will happen. These pirates have been nothing but polite. They seem a decent sort, for pirates.)

After five minutes, she finds the engine room. She hesitates briefly, checking for pirates, but there’s no one in sight. Tucking her skirts about her legs, she steps inside.

A massive Laroche 1300 chugs away, and Amy’s heart thuds. There’s one of these in her father’s factory, but it’s just a display. She hasn’t seen a working one since she was a child.

“Hello, beautiful,” she murmurs, running her hands over a protruding valve. “Someone must love you very much.”

From the other side of the engine comes a voice. “You useless piece of—” and a solid whack of metal on metal. Amy goes to investigate.

A pair of legs stick out from beneath the engine. As Amy watches, there’s another shot and a curse that makes her blush.

“Hello?” Amy calls.

The person starts and bumps their head on the bottom of the engine. Amy winces.

The figure wriggles free, and Amy is surprised to see a woman, long blonde hair pulled back behind her head. A woman in _trousers_ and _suspenders_ , like a _man_.

The blonde rubs her head, glaring at her. “Who are you, then?” Before Amy can say anything, she purses her lips. “Oh. Right. The clockworker’s wife.”

“Actually, I’m not.” That was to get her on the ship, and ‘wife’ isn’t even the right lie. Besides, she’s pretty certain they won’t kill her for the deception at this point. She peers at the engine. “What’s the problem here?”

The woman turns and scowls at the engine. “Piece of crap won’t output like it’s supposed to. We should be getting twice the speed.”

Amy sees the problem right away. “Well, maybe if you—”

“Look.” The woman turns to her. “I’m sure you think you know everything, but you should just sit back and let me work, alright? Don’t get your skirts dirty.”

Amy bites her lip to keep an unladylike reply from coming out. “Fine. Go right ahead.” She perches on a crate, crosses her arms. “Do your magic.”

The blonde stiffens, glowering. “Fine. I will.” With that, she turns back to the engine.

\---

An hour and a half later, the woman—Kate, she finally introduces herself—throws her wrench down. “This blasted thing!” She grabs a rag and wipes her face, smearing oil on her forehead. “I’ll have to come back to it.”

Amy keeps her mouth shut, with effort.

Letting out a breath, Kate turns to her. “Are you hungry? I can go to the mess and get you something to eat.”

Amy smiles. “It’d like that, thank you.”

“Right.” Kate nods. “Don’t go anywhere. And don’t touch anything while I’m gone!” She disappears out the door, feet fading down the hall.

As soon as she can’t hear her anymore, Amy rises from her perch, rolling her sleeves past her elbows. “Let’s see what we can do,” she murmurs, reaching for the second valve. It takes some tugging, but she finally loosens it.

Nothing happens.

“Huh.” She frowns. “That should have worked.” Stepping carefully, she moves to the side of the engine and opens a panel. “Let’s see what we…ah, I see.” Glancing around, she grabs a pair of goggles and a screwdriver. “Let’s get you going, huh, baby?” Not caring how it looks, she slips the goggles on and leans in.

She’s just about done when Kate returns. “I hope you like stew—what are you _doing?”_

Amy steps back, closing the panel with a proud snap. “I think that should do it.” She sets the screwdriver down and pushes the goggles up. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Heading back to the other side, she twists the same valve. _This_ time there’s a hearty belch from the engine, and then it starts chugging along twice as fast as before.

Kate gapes at her. “How did you…?”

“Some wires got crossed,” Amy says. “It happens in these older models. We fixed it by the 1500 series, but there was nothing for it in the older versions. Most people just went out and got new engines.” She smiles genially. “By the way, I’m Amy Laroche.” Then she taps the side of the engine, where _LAROCHE_ is stamped out in punched metal.

Kate laughs. “Wow. Don’t I feel silly now.” She strides further into the room, bring in the tray with her. “That’s something. Gotta love a woman with engine grease on her face.” She looks Amy up and down with a critical eye. “How about you eat, then we find you some clothes you can actually work in.”

\---

Kate loans her a pair of trousers. Amy has never felt so free. 

“This is amazing,” she says, looking at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t look like a man; she looks like a woman, in _trousers_ of all things. (Her father would be scandalized.)

And she does indeed have engine grease on her cheek.

Kate laughs. “It’s better than it looks. No skirts to get caught in pistons or levers…just make sure you keep your hair up and you’re good.” Her gaze is assessing and frank, running up and down Amy’s form. “You’re quite beautiful, you know.”

Amy has enough experience with men’s gazes to recognize attraction when she sees it. She’s just never been on the receiving end of a _woman’s_ gaze before.

Amy flushes. “Kate! We’re…that’s…we’re both women!”

“So?” Kate shrugs. “You’re beautiful, and I like it.”

Amy shifts. “But we’re…it’s not allowed.” No use mentioning the thrill she’d gotten upon seeing Kate under the engine, or how she’d enjoyed watching Kate work even though she was doing it wrong. (Or a dozen other little things in her life she’d ignored, because women weren’t _supposed_ to look at other women like that.)

“So what?” Another shrug, and Kate steps closer. “We’re pirates. We’re not exactly known for following the rules.”

Amy swallows, a thrill fluttering through her belly. “I…suppose that’s true.”

Kate grins, and leans down. “So I’ll say it again. You are _quite_ beautiful. Especially with engine grease on your cheek.”

Amy flushes, and her belly flutters again in a most delightful way.

\---

“Where did you wander off to?” Wes asks that evening, as they’re settling into the corner of the mess. The pirates give them a small bubble of privacy, though Kate winks at Amy across the room.

Amy smoothes her hands down her trousers, grinning despite herself. “Found the engine room. And how long did it take to notice I was missing, hmm?”

Wes flushes, ducking his head. “Longer than I’d like to admit.” He glances up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you have fun?”

Amy sneaks a glance at Kate, biting down the grin that threatens to spread across her face. “Quite. And how is it going with you?”

Wes scowls and stabs his bowl with his spoon. “It’s a _disaster_.” Before Amy can start to worry, Wes continues ranting. “Travis Marks is insufferable, incorrigible, and so full of innuendo I’m amazed he hasn’t caught something venereal. I can’t _stand_ him.”

Amy blinks at him. “Um…I was…actually asking about the automaton.”

“Oh.” Wes fleshes again, coughing delicately as he drops his gaze to his stew. “Um. Yes. The automaton is coming along fine. The Koreans do wonderful work, you know. Not as fine as Chinese clockwork, but still so intricate. Nothing American is even close.”

The color in his cheeks fades as he starts talking about clockwork, and Amy listens politely, but she can’t help but wonder why the pirate is the first thing Wes started talking about.

\---

After two days in the air, Kate confides that they’re just circling until Wes is finished fixing David. “Not that I think he minds,” she says with a laugh. “Travis seems to enjoy the company, and it doesn’t look like Wes is complaining.”

“They do nothing but argue,” Amy protests. “All the time, just fighting and bickering.”

“Trust me.” Kate winks. “I’m seen Travis fighting. He likes Wes.”

“Whatever you say,” Amy says dubiously, and vows to watch the two of them a little closer.

She deduces that Kate might be right. At the evening meal, Travis and Wes sit side by side, and though they continue to bicker the entire meal, their knees and shoulders keep bumping and neither of them are bothered by it.

“You’re right,” she says with a nod. “They have gotten close.”

Kate snorts into her bowl. “That’s not all they’ve gotten. Jonelle, the ship’s doctor, her bunk is right next to Travis’s. Let’s just say those two aren’t staying up late _arguing_.”

Amy chokes on her stew. “Are you saying…?” She looks at the two men across the room. Travis looks the type of rogue who’d charm at dozen women at every port, and Wes, Wes has a _fiancé!_ An arranged engagement, sure, but still.

“Isn’t it…illegal?” she whispers to the blonde. If two women together is merely scandalous, then two _men_ …well. She _knows_ there are laws against that.

Kate just laughs and squeezes her knee. “Pirates, love, remember? We’re not big on laws. Besides, we’re not judgmental. We get all types here.”

Amy sits back with a small smile, feeling more reassured than she has in a long time.

\---

There’s just something about this ship. They’re pirates, yes, but they’re not rude or rough or cruel. They’re a little crude, yes, and not exactly the crowd Amy is used to.

But they’re welcoming, and kind, and aren’t even mad she tricked her way onboard. (The ruse was up pretty much the first day, when Wes didn’t notice his supposed ‘fiancé’ was missing from the room.)

Honestly, this ship is more inviting than a lot of places she’s visited with her father or mother. There’s just something about the people here…

They’re pirates, but they’re a decent sort. She thought that right from the start, and she hasn’t been disproven since.

Plus, Kate is here.

\---

Another three days and the automaton is finally finished. Wes walks out looking proud, the golden figure behind him, walking just like a regular human.

“Alright.” Travis claps his hand on the automaton’s shoulder. “Now that you’re all patched up, it’s time to drop our guests off.”

Wes’s face twists subtly, before he smoothes his expression into something blank, and Amy guesses she isn’t the only one who feels disappointment curl thick in her stomach.

\---

“I want to stay,” she decides. She reaches over, almost able to touch Kate’s bunk. “I want to stay with you.”

Kate rolls over, eyes dark in the thin moonlight. “It wouldn’t be a god life. We’re pirates, love.”

“What’s not good? I could work on the engines. I’d have you. That sounds good enough for me.”

“And the stealing?” Kate asks. “The running? We’re fugitives across the country.” She shakes her head. “No, it’s no life for a girl like you. Think of this as a fun adventure, and go back to your regular life. That’s all this was.”

Amy is silent, and eventually Kate rolls back over.

\---

The thing is, she’s never felt like she’s quite fit in her place in the world. The daughter of a business mogul who’d rather work on the factory floor than the conference rooms upstairs. A girl who’d learned to turn her gaze away from the women around her because that was what was _expected_ of her.

Someday, she would have found a husband, or been given one the way Wes was, and she would have helped him in the family business, and she would have never been happy.

Here, for the first time in her life, she feels like she _fits_. She can work on the engines to her heart’s content, and no one looks askance when her gaze lingers on Kate because no one cares. 

She can be happy here, on this ship of misfits, she _knows_ it, can feel it in her bones. And yes, it’s not the easiest life, and she’ll have to get used to the stealing and running, but if it’s a choice between running forever or going back to her life, she’ll take the skies.

\---

“I’ve thought about it,” she decides once they land. “And I’m going to stay.”

The captain, a nice, short man named Sutton, sighs. “Are you certain? Piracy isn’t for everyone.”

“I’m sure.” Amy says, decisive. She’s made up her mind on this. She’s not going back. “I just need to send a telegraph to my father and I’ll be back.”

Sutton studies her and must see the resolve in her face, because he just nods slowly. “We’ll leave in an hour. Be back before then.”

She nods back, barely containing her mad rush down the hall and out onto deck. She passes Travis, sitting sullenly on a barrel. Wes left twenty minutes ago, as soon as they landed. She wants to say something to him, but she needs to get her message sent, and to run a few errands while they’re on land. There’s no time for consolations right now; she’ll save it for when she returns.

The telegram office is empty this time of day. She quickly writes out her message.

_Father._

_I am well. I am happy. Please don’t come searching for me._

_I will contact you when I can._

_Love Amy._

“Please send it in two days,” she tells the operator, handing it and a handful of coins over. She doesn’t know how quickly her father could mobilize his people to find her, but she wants to put as much space between herself and this port as she can. The operator gives her a bored nod, and Amy takes her leave.

She makes one stop on the way back, spending the last of the money on her. Everything else, now, will have to come through less-than-legal means. She’s less upset by that than she’d have thought she’d be a week ago.

Travis is gone from the deck when she returns, but Kate is there, grinning wildly, her hair askew. “Welcome aboard,” she says, sweeping Amy up in her arms. 

Amy giggles, clutching Kate’s shoulders. “I take it you heard?”

“The captain just told us.” Kate sets Amy back on her feet, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. To anyone on the docks below, it would just look friendly. Amy knows it’s so much more than that. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“I am too.” Amy pulls back slightly, looking around. “Where’s Travis? I wanted to say something to him.”

“He’s down in his bunk.” Kate’s grin turns a little wicked. “With Wes.” She waggles her eyebrows, meaning all too clear. “Apparently you’re not the only one who’s decided to embrace a life of piracy.”

“Really?” Amy laughs, remembering the glum, resolved look on Wes’s face as he told her of his fiancé. “Good for him.” She pushes away from Kate, reaching into her pocket. “And I have something for you.”

Kate’s eyes widen in glee. “A new crankshaft! Oh, you _do_ know the way to a girl’s heart!”

“I could help you put it in,” Amy offers suggestively, rolling the engine piece between her fingers.

Kate grins, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I do love a woman with engine grease on her face,” she purrs, leading the way down below.

As they descend into the belly of the ship, Amy thinks she’s freer than she’s ever been before, and it’s _wonderful_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the very first Kamy story I wrote, before anything I posted, way back when. I liked them together right from the start, and I wanted to play with their relationship a little. This happened quite by accident, but I thought it was cute. Wesvis will always be my OTP, but you can never have too much femslash in your life.


End file.
